No Surprise
by just-you-me-and-the-stars
Summary: Reality bites. And the one way Tommy knows how to fix that is to run away.
1. Part ONE

**I was trying to sleep and this idea wouldn't go away. So, here.**

"_And you and I will be a tough act to follow,_

_But I know in time we'll find,_

_This was no surprise."_

_-Daughtry; No Surprise._

My bags were packed, flight tickets on my duffel bag. I had the papers signing over my apartment to a couple sitting on my counter top in the kitchen. My flight left at ten – I was getting the fuck out of here.

I hadn't told anyone except for my landlord that I was leaving – but not even he knew where to. I just needed to get out. I was suffocating.

And fuck if I knew how I was going to leave Adam.

But the thing is, whether he intentionally did it or not – he was the reason I needed to get out. I couldn't breathe here anymore. I wasn't where I was supposed to be, I was lost, and he didn't help me find where I was supposed to go. If anything, he made it worse.

I had a plan. It was swirling around in my head for months before I actually decided when I was going to act upon it. I couldn't handle feeling so empty, so alone anymore. But the plan didn't just form in my head overnight. I had had many thoughts lining up in my brain whenever I blinked my eyes.

My first thought was suicide. Quick, easy, story-less suicide. I wouldn't have to worry about facing anyone ever again, they could move on without me. Right? Wrong. On the days I was considering this option, Adam had become more loving than usual. Like he suspected something was up. Damn observant fool.

My mind moved onto other things – such as staying in California, but quitting the band. I knew that that wouldn't be as easy done as it was said.

So I settled for option three. Move to New York, find a job, and leave all of this behind without a second thought. This would be hard, but I believed it would be so worth it.

On my way to Adam's that last day, I realized just how lost I really was in his world. My nerves had gone numb by this point. I just continued to drive, continued to press my foot to the pedals, steer the wheel. By then, it was all I knew how to do.

Before walking up the stairs to his apartment, I took a long look around the lobby. Tomorrow morning, I knew, Adam would race down here in a panic looking for me. I breathed deeply through my nose. I tried to remember the good times – when Adam had chased me around after I stole his phone. When it had rained so hard that we walked in here soaking wet. The corners of my lips twitch upward.

I was going to miss him. I couldn't deny that. Fuck, I had a hard time even remembering who I was before him. Before I was Tommy Joe – that guy who played guitar. To my parents, I was their son who never went to college, who would never make it in the world. And now that I had made it, I still wasn't fucking good enough.

The thought made my throat clog, tears threatening. I drew in a shaky breath, then began walking up the stairs to the third floor. My hand shook as I raised it to knock under the numbers _314. _

I heard his faint, "Hang on," then things clustering around before I heard the knob twist and he was standing in front of me.

_This will be the last time that happens_, I thought. He grinned, tilting his head to the side. "Hi." I squeaked.

"May I help you?" He was happy, upbeat. My heart ached.

"Uh, actually, I wanted to talk." He face faltered slightly. His smile was less charged, his eyes a little loomed over with dread.

"About?"

"About...us. About what the fuck we're even doing anymore." His smile was fake.

"Tommy...c'mon, don't do this."

I shook my head, tears closer than before. "I can't...I can't just sit and wonder what you're thinking all the time Adam. I can't." My voice broke of on the last word. The sentence hung in the air.

"I knew this would happen." I heard him mutter as he rested his head against the door.

"We can't keep avoiding it, Adam." _Even though I'll be gone tomorrow. _

"Avoiding what?" He asked quietly. "You're straight," I sighed. "I like you. You like girls. There's nothing to talk about." I rolled my eyes.

"If you really think that's all there is to this then you're a lot dumber than I thought." I said, turning on my heal and heading toward the stairs.

"Wait. Tommy. Just..." I turned. "Come inside." I nodded, following him into his apartment for what would be the last time. "Go in the living room. I'll make you some coffee." I bit my lip, walking into the larger room and sitting down on a black, plush couch.

Thoughts swirled in my head, threatening to take me out if I didn't watch myself. I breathed deeply, waiting for him to return. I knew what I had to say, what I had to do. I couldn't look back now. I made up my mind.

He walked in the room a few minutes later, wiping sweaty palms on his jeans. He sat on the other end of the couch, looking uncomfortable. "So..."

"I love you." Air filled my lungs as the words released pressure.

"Tommy-"

"No. I love you. I love everything about you. I love the way you laugh at stuff that only ten year old would find funny. The way you let me cuddle with you whenever I want. How you act all rough and tough and sexy onstage, but we all know you're the lamest guy in the world.

"I love how you get really cranky when you don't sleep enough, and how your face looks when your concentrated. I love watching you interact with your little kid fans, and watching you argue with your brother over useless bullshit. I love it when you're trying to sleep, but you let me sit and talk to you anyway.

"I love it when you talk to your friends about old memories. I love your smile, your freckles. I love it when you get embarrassed when people talk about your red hair. I fucking love your red hair. I love it when I get sick, and you take care of me." I finally looked up at him.

His face was shocked. Mouth gaping like a fish, eyes wide and watery. "I...Tommy..."

"And I understand if you don't feel that way about me, Adam." I knew he did. "But you just...you deserved to know. You deserved to know that I love you and that there's absolutely nothing you can do to change that." I stated.

It was silent. So silent. Loud, agitating, frightening, intense silence full of pressure I was soon to crack under. When I realized that this plan I had in my head wasn't going to work, I stood and began to walk toward the door. I heard him stand when I finally got to the door, then fast footsteps before a hand reached out and grabbed my arm.

"Don't...don't go." Those words. Fuck.

"Why? What use could I possibly be to you, Adam?"

"You're straight, Tommy."

"You keep telling yourself that." I snapped.

"You are, Tommy."

"I love you."

"But are you attracted to me?" During this conversation, I had been placed against the door, cheek against the wood.

"Of course."

"What if I asked you to sleep with me? Right now, no warning, no taking time to be sure you're ready for this. Just me, you, and my bedroom." His breath was hot against my neck, making me sweat and my dick twitch behind my zipper.

"I'd ask you why we're still standing here running circles around each other when we could have been fucking since June."

That was all it took. He spun me around, smashing his body to mine and claiming my lips with his. I needed this before I left.

I was going to hurt him and I was going to hurt me. I was leaving behind all of these people, these memories. I was going to miss them. Miss talking, miss texting, miss tweeting. I had already deactivated my Twitter, as well as changed my number. I was working with borrowed time being with Adam right now.

As I was gently laid down on black silk sheets, though, whether or not they knew what I was doing slid from my mind. Whether or not _I _knew what I was doing, however, was front and center. "Relax." Adam told me as he kissed my forehead before removing my shirt.

He kissed a trail from the hallow behind my ear to my shoulder. My breathing was starting to become ragged, and when he began sucking a mark into my skin, I groaned. He smiled against my flesh, then pulled his mouth off. Kissing my lips again, I gripped his hair, keeping him there.

After a few long moments, he began shaking his head and I let him go. "I've got things to show you, Glitterbaby." My lips twitched upward. "Promise me you'll tell me if I need to stop?"

I knew that would never happen. No matter what amount of pain I was put through, I would only deserve worse for what I had planned. Adam kissed down my torso, biting at the button and zipper of my jeans teasingly before crawling back up my body.

When I whimpered, he smirked. "Problem?"

"Do something." I whined. I had never been bottom before. Ever. Always with whiny, easy girls. This was so much different. So much more than what I had ever thought I could get.

"About?" He asked. I made a gurgled, frustrated sound in response. "Use your words." He was getting cocky.

"Adam." He just looked down at me, thighs touching my groin lightly. "Fuck. I hate you. Just please. Do something. Please."

"I dun_no_." I turned my head to the side, clamping down on his freckled arm with my teeth. "Ow. Little fucker."

"Do something!"

He gripped the top of my jeans, yanking them down forcefully. I bit my lip as he dragged himself down my body slowly. I grunted, thrusting my hips upward. "Silly straight boys." He smirked against my thigh when he said this.

"Fuck. You bended that straight a long ass time ago, Babyboy." I breathed, gasping slightly when he began sucking on the skin of my thigh. A low gurgling noise broke its way through in the back of my throat, echoing through the room.

His fingers looped around the waist band of my underwear, pulling them down. I couldn't look down at him, so my eyes trained on the ceiling above. "Tommy, look at me."

"No."

"Tommy. Look at me." I shook my head. "If you don't look at me, I'll call you a cab and send you home." I took a deep breath, then looked down at him. He'd rested his chin on a spot near my bellybutton, looking up at me. "Calm down."

"I'm calm."

"No, you haven't been calm since I met you." I rolled my eyes. "Why are you afraid? I'm just me. Just Adam. Same guy who I've always been." I clamped my eyes shut as my reality rushed at me, punching me in the gut.

I would never hear this voice again. I would never feel these hands again. Never walk next to him, never be able to call him my friend. He'd move on – find some guy who wasn't fucking crazy like me. He'd find better lays, and I'd see him in a magazine someday announcing some sort of heartbreaking news.

These eyes would never look at me one-on-one ever again. I lifted my hands, feeling out the outlines of his face. "Adam," I breathed when he caught my hand. "I love you. Don't forget that, okay? Ever. Promise me."

"I promise."

"Promise me that you'll always remember how much I love you. Because I always will – no matter what happens from now to the future. Promise me you'll think of me when you meet someone better." The words were pouring out now. I couldn't open my eyes. "Promise me you'll always remember Amsterdam and Paris and how much fun we had those nights."

"Tommy, I promise."

I opened my eyes, looking into his confused – yet sincere – blue ones. "Promise me you won't forget about me." He leaned up to my face, cradling it.

"Tommy, it is impossible to forget about someone like you. You're the kinda guy who leaves footprints wherever you go. You leave marks in my heart, memories in my mind. I love you. And you're perfect. And I will never, ever forget about you." I nodded.

He leaned down, pecking my lips. "Adam?" He stared at my face. "If...if anything ever happens between us, I want you to know that I'll always love you. That no matter what, I'll still need you." He stared at me skeptically, then nodded.

Minutes later, two of his lube-slicked fingers were knuckle-deep inside me. "So good, so beautiful." He murmured, watching his fingers thrust into me, then back out. My heart was hammering in my chest, my cock twitching with this brand new feeling. "You're so perfect like this. Spread out all for me." I moaned as he added a third finger.

Five minutes later, I was trying my hardest not to stress about my busy schedule tomorrow. These were my last moments with Adam. I took a deep breath, quiet, and let it back out. He pulled his fingers out of me and I whimpered, looking pathetically up at him.

"Relax, baby." He whispered into my ear, rummaging through his nightstand. I bit my lip, closing my eyes as he shifted my legs up further. "Deep breaths." He instructed. I heard the tear of a condom, making my heart come to a halt. "You aren't listening to me. Listen to me."

"I-"

"Shh. Baby, breathe." I swallowed air. I watched his hand lube his dick, making mine twitch in response. He couldn't help but smirk down at me. He grabbed my hips, and I soon felt the blunt head of his dick at my hole. "You ready?" I closed my eyes and nodded. "Eyes open. Now." I shook my head. "Tommy, _now._"

"I can't."

"I'm not moving until you open them." I felt my eyes grow wet, swimming with tears. But I opened them, nonetheless. As soon as I did, he pushed in. I groaned, biting on my lower lip and wanting to scream. "Relax. When you relax, it will feel so great, Tommy." He moved, hitting something inside that sent shock waves to my toes.

"Fuck. Again." And he complied, ramming into it harder. "Fuck!" I made a sound of incoherency, hand gripping his freckled shoulders. His strong hands slid from my waist to my thighs, spreading them more. He continued to push in, sliding out.

The moistened sounds our connection made was enough to mortify us both, but I was too far gone to care. "Tommy. Fuck, so tight, so good." I moaned, then he slowed. "Can we do something?" I nodded, needing whatever he was willing to give.

He rolled us over, sitting my on top of his cock. I sputtered curses, hands pushing harder into his shoulders. "Can I move?" I panted. He encouraged this frantically as I lifted up, grinding back down. He licked his lower lip, staring up at me.

"So fucking incredible." He gurgled, then panted. My leaking cock ran against my stomach, leaving a streak of cum across my skin.

"Fuck, Adam. I can't..."

"I'm...Tommy...I'm gonna-"

Sounds choked off by moans, head thrown back against his white pillows, limbs strung tight, I watched Adam cum. Because of me. Because of me riding him. This thought made me moan – loud and whiny.

Waiting for him to come down from his high was like waiting for an apocalypse. Knowing something big was going to happen. Knowing it was going to happen soon. But not knowing when exactly that life-changing whirlwind was going to appear.

Suddenly, his hands gripped at my skin, tossing me onto my back. My swollen dick bounced against my skin as I whined louder, pulling his hair. "Aren't we impatient today." He commented.

"Put my dick in your mouth or I'll fucking kill you." He smiled, then kissed me.

"I'll get to it shortly."

"Adam!" He ignored me, slowly sucking, biting, licking, and kissing my neck. "Please."

"Beg for me."

"Adam I just-"

"Beg!"

"Please. Please, I need it. I need."

"Need what?"

"Adam, please!" I was on the verge of tears as he hovered over me, air from his mouth feeling hot and damp on my flesh. "Please. Suck me off. Please." He stared at me, running his hands up and down my desperate face. "I need your lips around my cock. Need you."

He kissed down my torso, then reached my aching dick. He took it all in his mouth at once, swirling his tongue around the base once it was deep inside. My back arched, my brow full of sweat. I yanked his hair as he began sucking. Then he moaned, the vibrations sending tingles down my back.

Hot pits of fire burned low in my stomach, coiling about my spine. "Fuck." Hands and limbs locking tighter where they were, I screamed Adam's name. He milked me dry, them let go with a loud popping noise.

It was over.

This was all I had now.

All my future held was leaving.

"And how was that for your first time?" He mumbled into my ear after he made his way back up his bed. I just grunted in pleasure for a response. He smiled against my hair.

I waited. I watched the clock. I waited until I knew he was asleep. Heard those light snores, body heavy with exhaustion. Then I stood slowly, being sure not to move him. I dressed quickly, not caring about appearances, but about _time_.

This was it. I was gone. I stepped out of his room, raced through the living room, and made it to the door in the kitchen. I saw a notepad on the counter, a purple marker near the fridge. I grabbed both.

_I'm sorry. _That was all that needed to be said.

And with that, I exited the apartment, entered my car, and ran away from the life I had always dreamed of.

Reality bites.


	2. Part TWO

**This one kind of wrote itself.**

2 Years Later

I'd realized somewhere in the last few weeks that I would never smile again. I didn't know if I was necessarily happy with that, which was sort of a moot point. I had gotten myself into this mess, I had to now suffer the consequences.

I was okay with suffering until I realized what the consequences _were. _I didn't know I would be living in a small apartment with 4 guys. I didn't know I'd work full-time at a coffee shop making a quarter of what I used to. I didn't realize I'd have to go two days out of each week without eating.

It wasn't even those things that made me cry myself to sleep. Not any of those. I couldn't stand living with myself, knowing I'd hurt Adam. Knowing I'd never apologize because I'd been gone too long. I hated myself. I hated living. I hated breathing, hated my beating heart.

I walked down the streets of Buffalo. I pulled my jacket tighter around me, the winter winds stirring up coldness. I saw the familiar blue and orange sign ahead of me, so I lowered my head and watched my beat-up sneakers pat against pavement.

As I went to put my hands in my coat pockets, I ran into something – someone. "Shit!" Hot coffee poured down my jacket as I raised my arms. "Fucking dammit!" I yelled.

"I'm so sorry!" I knew that voice. "Are you okay?"

_Face the music, Tommy. Do it. He's waiting for an answer. _"Uh, fuck." I looked up.

Morning stubble lined his chin and those freckled lips. Eyeliner thick as it always was, hair messy – sexy. "Holy shit." He whispered. Emotions fluttered through his blue eyes. Anger. Sadness. Shock. More anger. Rage.

Instead of worrying about my jacket, about the smell of coffee that would stain me today, I bolted. I ran in the direction of my work, not stopping to walk in the front door like a customer. I ran through the back exit, ramming into a redheaded girl who yelped.

"Sorry! My bad!"

"Where's the fire?" She muttered, crossing her arms. "And why do you already smell like coffee? Your shift doesn't even start for another ten minutes."

"Some...guy ran into me." She nodded, then walked off.

I stripped my jacket, throwing it on a pile and grabbed an apron, tying it around my waist. I pushed up my sleeves, ran my hands through my hair – which was now a little more usual, a little more natural. I then washed my hands before walking out to the counter.

Sighing, I walked around people, murmuring 'Good morning!'s to those who actually spoke to me. It wasn't like I was the most welcoming guy, constantly frowning, constantly moping around.

This job was shit. I needed to find a new one, a better paying one. I didn't ave time to do that, though. Not without being fired, at least. Hours later, I turned to the counter to take an order, faced with my nightmare.

Adam stood, glaring at me, arms crossed. I walked up to him, taking a deep breath. "You found me."

"Fuck you." He spat. I looked down.

"Can you not do this here?"

"Where are we going to go?"

"I have a job. I have to finish my shift then we can talk." I told him.

"I'll be waiting. Right over there, I'll be watching you. You can't run." I nodded and he stepped away, sitting at a table, staring. I went back to my duties as if nothing had happened.

By the time seven o'clock rolled around – what seemed like centuries later – I walked to go get my jacket. It was damp with coffee, reeking of hazelnut. I sighed, slipping it on and wrapping my arms around me before walking to the front. I stood near his table and he stood, putting his hand out as if to tell me to walk ahead of him. I started walking, teetering from foot to foot nervously as I walked. He was close behind – too close, almost.

I saw my apartment building coming up after ten minutes of silence. I knew he was getting uncomfortable with the downgrading of buildings, and I turned to face him. "So what's the story? How'd you find me?"

His hands were in his back pockets of those tight jeans. "I didn't come here to find you. You think too highly of yourself." He sneered. I dropped my head. "Actually, I believe I'm the one who deserves an explanation." I stayed silent. Seconds added up, minutes passed. "I'm waiting."

"Why does it matter?" He scoffed.

"You're pathetic. Fucking pathetic. I can't believe I actually thought I'd get an answer out of you." I sighed. "You fucking crushed me, Tommy. You ruined everything. You don't even realize half of the damage you have made.

"So yes, it really fucking _does_ matter why you left. It matters because while you were clearly upgrading your life," he said sarcastically, gesturing to the shithole around us, "I was trying to make sure my career didn't go down the drain. I don't want to give up my dream like you did."

"What fucking dream?" I snapped. "What fucking fantasy was so fulfilled of mine?"

"Fuck you. I gave you everything, Tommy, don't give me that bullshit."

"It wasn't..."

"Wasn't what? Good enough for you? Because this palace you seem to be living in...that's some high quality living." He was mocking me.

"I couldn't handle it anymore, Adam. I couldn't be who everyone wanted me to be. I couldn't be nine different people. I needed to escape before it killed me." I told him. There. There it was, the truth dangling in the air.

"And you couldn't have said something?"

"That's a mature thing to do, blame it all on me."

"So you're saying it's my fault?"

"No! I'm saying that I left and I'm not coming back, Adam."

"You should have said something, Tommy."

"I couldn't. You were busy, and I didn't want to take your attention away from more important things." He bit his lip.

It was silent for a few moments, until he spoke. "I miss you." I noticed then that I was about to cry. "So much. You don't even understand. I'm trying to be mad at you right now, but I can't. I just want to hug you. I just want to talk to you, ask questions."

"I can't necessarily explain why I left. I did it because it seemed best for both of us, and I was just so scared of being swallowed up in your world. I was afraid I couldn't escape. Afraid you would find someone else and I wouldn't mean anything to you.

"I was scared, Adam. I was so scared." I felt wetness on my cheeks. "And I didn't want to have to...concern you with my problems. It wasn't your issue, it was mine. You were busy, you had a career, other people to worry about, everything." He took a few steps closer to me.

"And God, my mom...she fucked it all up, too." I muttered. "She put all this pressure on me all my life to be perfect. To be who she wanted me to be. And after my dad died, she only got worse. Whenever she talked to me, she'd ask why I let you push me around. Why I acted like your toy. I had no good reason – other than that I loved you, and I loved seeing you smile.

"If I had told her that, she would have only gotten more angry. So I guess instead of facing any of my problems, instead of being strong, I ran away. I'm sorry, Adam. I'm so sorry." A single sob echoed through my throat. "I never wanted to hurt you. In a million years, that was that last thing I wanted."

I was staring at my feet, for I couldn't look at the sadness on his face anymore. It stayed silent until I heard two footsteps, then felt tight arms wrap around my waist. That was really all he could do. I didn't expect him to accept my apology. I didn't expect him to believe what was the wholehearted truth, either. I just hugged him back, snuggling my face in the crook of his neck.

God, he smelled the same. "Can we go somewhere and talk? Your place?" He asked. I nodded.

"I have to warn you, though, I share a two room apartment with four guys who haven't cleaned since they were eleven." I pulled away and he smiled down at me. "You think I'm kidding?"

"I think you're dramatic." I shrugged.

"Maybe so, but I'm dead serious about this." I told him as we began walking closer to the building. We reached the old, red brick destination and I pushed open the blue, wooden door – which had been half eaten by mice – and headed up the stairs with him behind me. "Watch the top step." I muttered.

These steps were old and wooden, and not to mention too steep. The top step had a hole in the ceiling above it, and whenever it rained it softened. I avoided it and continued walking toward my apartment. Then I heard an _oof _and Adam stumbled right up behind me. "Told you."

He said nothing. We reached the old, green door and I pulled my keys out of my damp pocket, opening the door. Smells of old Mexican food wafted toward us and I sighed, shrugging off my jacket, holding it in my arms. Adam followed behind me until I reached my bedroom which I shared with an asshole named John.

Opening the door, I saw him on _my _bed playing video games. "Hey, dickwad, get off of my bed."

"No." He said, smirking.

"Get off of my bed, you fucktard." I spoke slower. "When was the last time you bathed?" My face was scrunched up dramatically.

"It's hard to bathe when Dillon and his fuck-buddies use up all the hot water."

"That's your excuse for smelling like a farm?" He nodded. "Get off of my bed or I'll beat the shit out of you."

"You're like three feet tall, you really think I'm afraid-" He was cut off when I jumped him, putting him in a headlock. "Get off me!"

"Get off of my bed!"

"Okay! Okay! You fucking win, get off me!" I let go as he stood, turning off the TV. "Asshole."

"Takes one to know one." He flicked me off.

"Who's this?"

"Uh, I'm Adam." John looked down at the hand Adam had offered.

"The singer?" Adam nodded. "You're the reason I have to listen to this kid crying all the time. Why would I want to shake your hand?" Adam gaped at him.

"Can you not?" I asked, snapping. He rolled his eyes, then turned and left the room. "Dick."

"So, he seems fun." Sarcasm thick in his tone. I nodded.

"Tons." He laughed. I patted the bed – which, in reality, was a couch without a back. He sat next to me and I bit my lip, unsure of what to say. It stayed that way for minutes, his eyes locked on the side of my head the entire time. "Why are you in New York, anyway?"

"Uh..." I looked at him. "Monte kind of knew you were here." I kinked my head to the side. "He was here last week and saw you at work. He didn't go in because he didn't want to confront the situation. So he called and told me. I had plane tickets within the next hour."

"How is he?"

"He's great. Was fucking livid when you left though. They all were." I nodded slowly. "Then it came down to the fact that they just missed you. It's impossible to find someone like you were, Tommy. We tried hard to forget you."

"I'm not coming back, Adam." I whispered.

"You will. Eventually, you will."

"I won't, though. I can't. I have about as much of a chance there as I do here, Adam. I've got nothing."

"I could find you a job. I could find you an apartment."

"So I'd owe you for the rest of my life, right?" I knew I had a frigid look on my face. "I'd rather live on the streets than be in debt to you."

"Would you stop? You aren't impressing anyone. You and I both know you want to move back, you and I both know you want this. You wouldn't owe me anything, Tommy. We wouldn't even have to be friends. Nothing. I just want to help."

"We both know that if you help me with this, you'll want to be friends."

"What's wrong with that?" I shook my head.

"Nothing _wrong _with it. I just..." I trailed off, not wanting to finish.

"What?" I shrugged. "Talk to me."

"Why are you being nice to me?" Voice small, cracking like my structure had begun to this morning. "I fucked you over. You should hate me."

"I used to. I used to pray your life was hell, I used to wish that things wouldn't ever work out for you. But I realized that that wasn't who I was. I loved you, and all I truly wanted was for you to be happy. Though, I can't say you being happy with _me _wasn't on top of that list."

"I wanted that, too. For the longest time I wanted it."

"Then why didn't you...why didn't it happen?"

"Think about it. We aren't meant for a long-time thing. You're responsible, and nice, and caring. I have the priorities and organization of a twelve year old. I'd drag you back, I'd ruin something for you. You think I could live with that?"

"We'd complete each other." I looked at my knees for a moment until he elbowed me lightly. "Come on." He stood. I looked up at him. "Come _on_."

I went with it. When you have nothing, you have nothing to lose, I'd learned.

We ended up at a park. A park I hadn't ever seen in my life. A park where, for the first time in two years, I smiled. At first I was panicked when I felt the corners of my lips curve up. I reached up a hand, touching my mouth.

His hand wrapped around my wrist. "You're allowed to be happy, you know." I bit my lip. "No matter how much bullshit you've been telling yourself, you deserve to smile."

"Do I?" He nodded. "Hey Adam?" He looked at me. "I know it's really none of my business, but it's killing me not to know-"

"Yes, Tommy. I have slept with other people since you." I took a deep breath, understanding this. "But you know what?"

"What?"

"Not a single one of them were as important as you." The left side of my mouth curved up.

"You're ridiculous, you know."

"I know, but may I ask why?"

"You can get any person in the world who you want – anyone – yet you stay hung up on a guy who literally ran away from you and your affection." He rolled his eyes. "I'm serious. You could sleep with anyone in the universe and there wouldn't be a protest."

"But, as you just said, anyone who _I want_. I only want you. Then, now, in the future." I shook my head. "Move back to California. Please."

"I like it here."

"Right. Sure."

"I do!"

"It's dangerous."

"I like dangerous."

"Please?"

I hesitated. He noticed, lips beginning to prowl upward. "I'll move back under one condition."

"And that is?"

"We don't date. We don't fuck. We don't steak a claim to each other. You're going to be my friend, I'm going to be yours. We call each other to talk – not to flirt."

"What if it becomes a mutual decision to do those things?"

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it." I stated.

"Okay." I smiled.

"Also – I need a job where I don't smell like coffee."

He laughed, "Deal. But – I'm allowed to pay your rent."

"What? No!"

"Deal's off."

"Adam!"

"Tommy!"

"Come on!" I whined.

"It won't be expensive, and it isn't like I don't have the money. Please?"

I weighed all of this in my head. If I let him do this, there was no way I could ever leave again. If I didn't, I'd be without him. "Fine." His smile lit up.

An hour later, we began walking back to my apartment after making moving plans. I hadn't felt this happy in two years. The decisions I had just made were risky, dangerous, irresponsible, and definitely going to backfire at some point.

But fuck if I cared.


End file.
